


Enough is enough

by AstriferousSprite



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack, Gen, the salt is strong with this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9259154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstriferousSprite/pseuds/AstriferousSprite
Summary: Fascists tend to make for piss-poor owners.





	

Hux sighed contently, petting the cat in his lap.

“We certainly showed those Resistance scum, didn’t we, Millicent?” he crooned, in a fascist sort of tone. Never mind that the First Order had just barely lost, with many of their important command ships destroyed. Dictators loved to delude themselves like that. “They never saw us coming.”

Millicent trilled, leaping off the evil general’s lap—but catching his back paw on Hux’s awkwardly positioned leg. He tumbled to the ground in a very disorganized pile.

“Milly!” exclaimed the totalitarian, bending down as the cat stood up shakily with a loud purr. “Oh, you’re all right. I should have known, you’re tougher than that weak Republic.” He scratched the purring cat behind his ears. “Good cat.” _God_ , Millicent hated the guy.

No, he wasn’t all right, his hind leg hurt like a bitch. Hadn’t Hux heard his loud purrs? For fuck’s sake, he was hurt.  But _no_ , the Nazi-in-space had just pet him and crooned that he was “such a good kitty.” Ugh. And that wasn’t even mentioning the _other_ incident with the microwave…

Enough was enough.

Millicent was gonna end this _tonight._

 

Hux had been gone all afternoon doing stupid fascist things, giving Millicent time to plot his revenge.

In a hurry, the idiot autocrat had left his glass of space whisky haphazardly on the table in his quarters. Millicent knew that if he followed his instincts and tipped it over, it would cause a distraction, leading to Phase Two.

And just as he expected, the galactic Jingoist walked in that evening, rubbing his eyes. “What a load of rubbish, Milly,” he said, yawning in an authoritarian manner. “There’s actually officers aboard this ship who do _not_ want war with the Republic; honestly, what kind of pacifist idiots— _Milly, no._ ”

Indeed, the black-coated blackshirt had noticed the cat’s paw inch closer and closer to the tumbler of alcohol. “Don’t you _dare—_ ”

Millicent dared.

The glass fell to the floor with a crash, shattering upon the metal and spilling liquor everywhere. The nationalist groaned, bending down. “How rude of you,” he grumbled, carefully sweeping up the glass with his evil rightist gloves. Millicent leaped to the nearby shelf—although painfully—and positioned himself next to a large, metal something.

Oh, _yes._

With one bat of his paw, the ornament crashed upon the head of the self-proclaimed alt-Imperial, who let out a surprised yelp as he fell to the floor, dead.

Satisfied, the cat painfully landed back on the floor, and ran to the docking bay. He was getting _out_ of this wretched hive of despotism as soon as he could.

 

Rey and Finn were meditating when a First Order ship crashed on the island. Hesitantly, they drew their lightsabers, ready to investigate—only to find that it was mostly empty. The pilot inside was dead, with long claw marks all over his face. The only other occupant was a ginger cat swishing his tail back and forth.

The duo retracted their lightsabers, looking at the purring cat.

“He’s hurt,” said Rey plainly.

“I can tell.” Finn bent down to look at the cat. “Oh, his hind leg is crooked. Maybe it’s dislocated?”

“I think so,” said Rey. “Do you wanna go fetch the med kit from the _Falcon?_ ”

He stood up. “I’m on it.” And walked out.

Rey looked back at the cat. “How did you get on this ship?”

He meowed, scratching at the First Order emblem on the floor.

“Don’t do that,” she said, “you’ll only hurt yourself.” Reluctantly, he stopped, resting his head on his front paws. “Does your master know you’re here?”

At the sound of _master,_ the cat’s tail flicked, his ears flattening to the side.

“Oh, no.” Rey’s gaze softened. “Was he that cruel?”

He mewed softly, ears relaxing.

“I’m so sorry.” She held her hand out. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here. Finn will see your leg—he’s wonderful with first aid—and we’ll take good care of you.”

The cat leaned towards her outstretched hand, delicately sniffing it—and then closed his eyes, butting his head into her palm.

Rey smiled as she gently stroked the cat, who was purring softly. “You’re so sweet. But you probably need a new name. Hmm—how about Amit?” He mewed softly. “It means _friend._ ”

He blinked again. Rey blinked back.

The sound of footsteps distracted the two as Finn walked back into the shuttle. “Alright, let’s see that leg of yours, kitty.”

 

His leg had been dislocated.

Millicent—no, _Amit_ had been told by to stay still for a week. He didn’t know if he could manage that, but the gentle man had smiled and promised that he’d be taken care of. And sure enough, only a few minutes after he had been found, dinner had been served in the form of fresh-caught fish and water.

Hux had _never_ served him fish.

The cat’s tail drooped with content as he ate, with Rey and Finn close by. Yes, he _definitely_ liked the Resistance better.

**Author's Note:**

> this guy had 3 minutes of screentime why do y'all love him  
> anyways if anyone wants to kvetch about a nazi-coded character to a jewish kid, hmu on [my tumblr](http://lesbiangffa.tumblr.com)


End file.
